Chapter Text
Seven months, three weeks, two hours.
Not that Vincenzo Cassano was counting, but the awareness of passing time was something he simply couldn’t help. Ever since his mother left him, he had been counting. And ironically, now he was the one doing the leaving. And he was still counting.
Seven months, three weeks, two hours.
It hovered in the back of his mind like an incessant fly, a whisper that Simply. Would. Not. GO.
“... Consigliere?”
His eyes opened at the greeting and awareness of time was joined by awareness of space. He was in his office, on his sofa, everpresent lighter in hand.
(He also had a crick in his neck.)
Luca stood nearby within the periphery of his vision, his second most reliable anchor – next to the lighter – looking rather disturbed. Vincenzo gave him a small nod. “Yes?”
“Apologies consigliere, but I had been calling your name a few times now. Marianna wishes to know what would you like for supper.”
Vincenzo gave a dry chuckle. That was something he had to get used to; having someone other than Luca in his immediate employ. But Luca had suggested it, stating that Marianna was wrongly convicted for a crime she did not commit and could not find employ elsewhere. She is an excellent housekeeper and has no family, Luca had said. She is discreet and loyal. And the cincher was: she lived in Korea for years, consigliere, so you will always have a reminder of your homeland.
“I am fine with whatever she feels fit to make, Luca.”
Luca nodded and turned to leave but halted when he remembered something. “My sources at the AISE tells me that your name has been popping up again, consigliere. Are you sure you have settled your affairs in your homeland?”
(A memory of long silky hair, a bold smile, eyes that tore down his walls and gave him a taste of warmth)
“I did,” Vincenzo said simply. His tone bode no further discussion, and Luca took his leave. But his news had planted something in his heart, seven months three weeks and two hours after he thought he had killed it.
(... Could it be...?)